Within a few minutes I had been coaxed and cajoled to the bar with Pierce and his sleazy friends and I felt none too happy. The girlfriends were conspicuous in their absence and I got the general impression that this was a Guys Night for them, to which I should feel flattered to be invited. The desire lines were marked on their faces as they looked at me and they shared laughter and knowing glances.

All of it made me wonder what Pierce had said about me. I could guess. That I was a slut. That I did all kinds of things at command.

One of the guys, tall and blonde with a mean brow and a weak chin, put his hand on my bare arm as he told a crass joke about a prostitute. Pierce saw and he grinned like an idiot and I got the feeling that he wanted to do more with me than show me off. I was starting to feel quite tired. Unlike me, to feel that way when drinking. Something felt..... not right and I felt far away from.... everything. And tired. More tired, very very tired. I looked at my glass and the sickening thought hit me that it could have something in it. Something to make me compliant, open for playtime with his friends. I hoped with all my soul that I was wrong.... but I felt so weak....

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I was surprised at how much traffic there was at 1:00 in the morning. It seemed like every street I used had enough travel on it to impede my progress. I checked the address again - it was in a part of town with which I was not familiar, more upper east side than I was used to. I felt an urgency about getting there as quickly as possible. I knew after our last quiet argument, she must have been in a very bad situation to reach out to me in the manner in which she did.

I pulled up in front of the bar - I could tell right away it catered to an upscale clientele. Absent were the bright neon beer signs, which would indicate they weren't really seeking a walk-up business. I tried to look through the glass front door to see how much I could learn about the bar before I went in, but it was too dark to determine anything. I hated going it completely blind like this, but I knew I had no choice, since she was in there and had asked for my help.

I had grabbed my service belt and badge as I had walked out the door. Even though I wasn't in uniform, I wanted them to know who I was. I wrapped the belt around my waist and fastened it, and then clipped my badge to my shirt. With everything in place, I walked to the front door.

Things were blurring up quite badly. I could hear some laughter and a hand on my shoulder and whispering. I felt I wanted to sleep but also somewhere somehow I wanted to run, run away. The suspicion that I was being drugged still floated around my mind but my mind wasn't my own, it drifted and swayed and I couldn't keep it.

I slumped forward on the stool, head onto the bar and breathed heavily. Pierce said something loudly and it elicited grating laughter from several voices. I lifted my head with some effort and, chin on the bar, gazed at the door. It opened and Joe strode in and he looked alert and ready and sharp and all the things that I wasn't and I loved to see him and I wanted him to spot me and I wanted to be gone, with him.

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I spotted her immediately - all I had to see was the crowd of men standing around her, obviously having a good time, though it was clear that Clarissa wasn't feeling the same way. I could tell that something was wrong - my suspicion was that she had been drugged. But that was the least of my concerns - first and foremost, I had to get her out of there and to safety.

I walked up to the group and said firmly, "Gentlemen, my name is Joe, and Clarissa asked me to come and get her. Please step aside so I can take her with me."

I could tell they weren't impressed right away, since nobody moved at all. One of them started arrogantly laughing, as if I wasn't even present. With that move, he established himself as the ringleader, so I brushed past the others in the group and went straight for him.

"Listen, I don't know who you are, or how you know Clarissa, but I'm pretty sure that one of you has drugged her, judging by the state she is in. I'm a Metro police officer, and I have a text on my phone from Clarissa, asking me to come and get her. If you and your friends don't move immediately, I'm calling my friends on the force and you will all be arrested for kidnapping. So it's your move - what do you choose?"

Bigshot guy looked at his buddies, and then backed away. His friends all did the same. I didn't feel like Clarissa could walk, so I picked her up and carried her out the door and to my truck, securing her in the front passenger seat. With a "You're safe now, Clarissa," I headed to my apartment, thinking that was the safest place for her tonight, at least until she could tell me what happened.

I woke slowly and heavily and the room was dark and my head hurt. I seemed to be alone and I seemed not to know where.

I moved myself gingerly and found I was in a single bed, with two pillows, still in my dress. I felt tucked in and warm and I looked around the room but did't recognise it. It appeared pretty spartan- a nightstand, wardrobe, chest of drawers, and not really anything else. "Functional". Not particularly homely.

There was something on the nightstand though. A framed picture. I strained to look at it, then got up onto my elbows and got closer. Two kids. I scrutinised it some more. Joe's kids..... I thought..... yes, definitely. So I was at Joe's place. Why? When had that happened? What was going on? I tried to take the picture in my hand to look more closely but my movements were unsteady and I caught it with an uncoordinated movement and knocked it from the nightstand and it fell and it struck the half-open drawer at the bottom and the glass shattered and it was a loud harsh sound. I withdrew under the covers and my heart was galloping.

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She had completely passed out by the time I made it back to my apartment. I took her straight into my bedroom, pulled back the covers and lay her on the bed. Tucking her in tightly, I left her there, with the door cracked so I could hear if she had any problems or needed me to help her for any reason.

I settled into my chair, but I didn't sleep. I turned on the TV, not to watch, but to provide a visual distraction in the darkness of the middle of the night. In the silence of the bright pictures glaring out at me, I thought about Clarissa, and our rocky relationship, and I wondered how it was so bad that she needed me to come and get her.

And then I remembered the group of guys I had struggled with as I attempted to take her out of the bar and to my apartment. Was one of them her boyfriend? If so, I had to figure out a way to get through to her that her actions are causing her so many problems. I wanted to help her, but I didn't know if she would accept my help.

I heard a crash from the bedroom. I was out of my chair immediately, bolting to the door and stepping inside. I found the table lamp in the corner and turned it on. Clarissa was hiding under the covers, and I saw the picture of me and my kids laying on the floor, the glass broken after being knocked over.

"Clarissa, are you okay? Don't worry about the picture - I'll get the glass cleaned up - stay there for a minute so you don't get cuts in your feet."

Joe's words of comfort found me through the covers but I didn't emerge, I stayed hidden in there and I wanted to be that way.

At another time I would have worried, not for the first time, about what he might think of me. But on this occasion being concerned about that was beyond me. Last night was fragments.... was or was it still "last night"? I had no idea of the time. Early morning seemed likely, between 1am and 4am. I hadn't meant to break Joe's picture. I wondered if he thought I hated his kids, after how I'd behaved at the gallery with them and now this. I didn't.

Were they here now? I didn't want to risk them seeing me like this. No.... no, they didn't live with him. He'd told me that, when we'd talked honestly before. It felt a long time ago.

"I'm sorry Joe," I said.

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I began picking up glass fragments on the floor next to my bed. I suppose it was easier to find them than it could have been, since the apartment was too cheap to have carpeting, and many mornings I cursed the cold linoleum as I stepped out of bed for the first time.

As I swept, I heard her apologize. I didn't want her to think I was angry with her, so I tried to head that off immediately.

"There's no reason to apologize, Clarissa. I can get a new glass for the frame and have it fixed as good as new."

Then I wondered - was she apologizing for the broken glass, or something else?

He paused in collecting the glass, I heard it. I drew the covers closer over myself and completely cocooned myself and warmed myself, protected myself. It felt good. I felt I wanted to stay this way.

"I'm sorry for how I've treated you. I didn't mean it to be... to be like it was. I didn't want to be that cold, that stupid. I felt like something was starting with us, and that scared me. So.... so I closed up on you. I ruined it before anything could begin, and I'm sorry for that. I don't expect anything from you, but I hope you won't think too badly of me."

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As she apologized from underneath the blanket on the bed, I realized I could have unloaded on her about how hurt I was the night she made me leave her apartment after our kiss. But I also realized that if I was still upset about that, I probably wouldn't have gone to get her when she texted me, asking for help.

"I probably pushed you too hard, Clarissa. I felt I was seeing something in you that rarely comes out and I liked it. I thought you were happy. I know I was. So I pushed and it must have been to hard."

I finished sweeping up the glass and took the broom and dustpan back to the closest. She was still hiding when I came back.

"I'm glad you felt like you could ask for my help. I have a feeling it was going to be bad for you in that bar."

Feeling too ridiculous and child-like talking from beneath the blankets, I emerged and I knew I was with messed hair and mascara run by a few tears, I could feel it. Joe was standing by the bedroom door and looked calm. I supposed difficult situations with difficult people were part and parcel of his difficult job. He was wearing that gentle smile and I wondered what my expression said.

"To be honest I don't really remember. It was probably nothing, I probably just drank a bit too much. It's all a bit hazy..... I'm sorry to put you to all this trouble, giving up your bed and everything. I can call a taxi and get out of your way right now, if you need me to?"

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I looked at my phone - 3:12 a.m. I watched as she emerged from under the blankets, looking a bit disheveled, and yet still incredibly beautiful to me. I was concentrating on her words as she described her night a little bit, and was surprised in her denial at being drugged by the group of men at the bar.

But I knew this wasn't the time to argue with her. So I just nodded as I listened, until she told me she could get a taxi to get out of my way.

"No, please stay. You're certainly no trouble, and I'd really like you to wait at least a few more hours before you venture out on your own. Plus it's the middle of the night - stay here where you're safe."

I was trying to be as inviting as possible, without sounding like I expected more. The truth was she could stay as long as she wanted, although I was pretty sure the sparse furnishings of my dumpy apartment were going to drive her crazy before too long.

I nodded. I had been hoping he would say that, underneath. But I felt strange and I felt scared somehow.

"Would you stay with me a while?" I said it with my voice and I said it with my eyes and I could see he wasn't sure why I was asking. "I just... I don't want to be alone at the moment. For a change. I have nightmares sometimes. And I think that.... whatever happened.... might bring them on again. Would you stay in here with me?"

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In her words was the realization that she was in a lot of trouble when she texted me to come and pick her up from the bar. But those same words held perhaps an even deeper clue as to why she sometimes struggled. While I was no expert on nightmares, I did remember during my earliest training that cops sometimes relived traumatic experiences from their days on the job, and often those experiences manifested themselves in the form of nightmares.

I felt her plea was sincere, and I knew I wasn't going to rush things like I might have on the night when we kissed. Tonight, she wasn't a potential romantic partner. She was more like a scared little girl, looking for anything to provide her the security blanket she desperately needed.

"Of course I'll stay - I'll sit right down here on the floor next to you. Nothing is going to get you tonight, Clarissa - you're safe with me." I wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, or even stroke her hair. But that wasn't my purpose tonight. Tonight, I was shelter for a lost soul.

We were quiet for a bit. I wanted to know some more about him, I knew so little. I promised myself I wouldn't make the same mistake as before and I hoped that I'd keep that promise. Sometimes it was hard to. I thought I remembered keeping a promise once but I didn't remember what it was. Maybe I'd made it up. Maybe I could do it this time.

"Do you want something from life, Joe?"

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I wasn't prepared for that question, but I knew the answer immediately, because it had been part of my thoughts the past few months as I hid from the world in this crappy apartment when I wasn't on duty.

"I want happiness - I just want to be happy. I want to enjoy life, yet I realize that's not going to happen as long as I'm alone."

I paused, then continued. "My ex-wife is a great woman, but I never connected with her. I thought I was in love, but I don't really think I ever was. I want to know what true love feels like. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

I stopped one more time, and then turned the question back..."What about you, Clarissa? What do you want?"

I was sitting up in the bed, half covered and half not and Joe was sat on the floor a metre or so down on my right. It was still quite dark and it helped me to talk because expressions can't quite be read and somehow it feels easier.

"I'd like to be happy too. I used to think about it a lot, when I was younger. I had a lot of plans, a lot of ideas. And not too many cares. Nothing much has changed, I've still got all the privileges and all of that. But I've changed. I haven't been happy in my twenties. I've struggled and it doesn't feel good." Joe was silent and I knew he was waiting for me to continue.

"I'm not sure what I want. Only that I definitely don't have it. Do you ever think about moving somewhere completely new, where you're not known?" As I said it I heard what a stupid question that was, with Joe having children here that he loved.

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I don't think she realized just how unknown I was - perhaps that was part of my problem. I had my friends on the police force, but we never really did anything outside of work, since most of the ones I hung out with were married. I'd lived in this apartment for months, but I didn't know even one other person that lived here. And I'd run from my life I had when I was married.

A moment of awareness suddenly flashed in my mind.

"I have that now. I ran to where nobody knows me, thinking it was what I needed. Instead, I quickly found out that it's the most lonely place in the universe if you don't have someone to share it with. There are times that I think that even without being able to love Kristy, it was a better life than the loneliness I face here."

I shuddered in the darkness. Had I discovered what I needed to do? Or was there a possibility that I could still find the one right person out there? Was she here with me now?

"That's how I feel sometimes, about Pierce. He's.... the guy who took me to that bar. We've been on and off for ages, I don't know why. He can be nice, but.... I don't know. He doesn't care about anything."

I remembered something and wanted to share it. "There's a saying, I can't remember who from. It's..... these days people know the price of everything and the value of nothing. That's Pierce exactly. It's all dollars, it's all possessions. That's what I am to him. That's why he wanted me there. To show me off. I'm not a person to him."

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"What would love look like to you? To me, it's knowing that no matter what I do, the one who loves me is able to forgive me and still see all of my potential. It would be doing everything I could to make sure she never felt alone or scared or worthless or not loved......basically all the things I feel now."

I knew what love was - at least I thought I did. I knew what I wanted, and it required another person in my life.

"Clarissa, I know that our lives are vastly different. But as I sit here and listen to both of us, we are in the same place, and I think we want the same things."

"I don't think I even know what it would look like. I can't see it's face. Is that really tragic?" Everything was very still and I wondered when I'd last really talked to someone. In honesty. Probably the last time Joe was at my apartment.

"I want someone to bring out the best in me. I think it's there, underneath. Really, really deep down." I smiled in the dark. "I need a very very very good digger."

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I flipped on the lamp on the table next to the bed. Even though it wasn't a powerful bulb, it caused both of us to squint with the intrusion of light.

"Clarissa, I've seen that - that very first night we met, at the gallery grand opening. When those patrons starting coming in, you were magnificent with them - you really seemed to be in your element. It was as if the gallery was your soul, and you were welcoming them to see what you were all about.

"Up to the time when your brothers started acting like jerks, you were in charge, keeping order without having to try. But you understandably shut down when they started up, and it's been hard to find that confident and brilliant girl ever since."

I looked at her, because I was afraid I would cause her to relive that horrendous scene her brothers created that night. So I tried to deflect her feelings back to the start of that evening.

"I believe that soulful and wonderful Clarissa is scratching on the surface now, waiting to be unleashed and take over her life again. I think she's the one behind what you are sharing with me tonight."

He held my gaze steadily and I liked the calm control and the under-rushing warmth in his eyes. I could see through to his strong character, to how he was.

"Thank you." He just nodded. "I mean that. I want you to hear.... that.... thank you."

"I believe that soulful and wonderful Clarissa is scratching on the surface now, waiting to be unleashed and take over her life again. I think she's the one behind what you are sharing with me tonight," He said, as if to change the subject from my family but also with feeling, someone who meant what he said.

I pondered her question for a few seconds, even though I already knew the answer.

"I think it's fear - fear of not being able to find that one person with whom I can give my whole life to, and they can give to me. I don't have many opportunities to look. Frankly, I'm not even sure where to begin. But even if I find somebody, I'm not sure how I will ever open up enough to make the commitment again, since I seemed to do a pretty poor job at it the first time."

I locked eyes with her once again and asked, "Am I being ridiculous in wanting something like that? Maybe I'm the one that's flawed, and my expectations are too high."

Shaking my head slowly, I said that I didn't think it was ridiculous. That it was something very human. We were quiet for a bit longer and I felt my lids weigh down, sleep climbing to me and taking me under, back again to rest that I needed.

When I woke light was casting itself through the window and falling golden over me on the bed. I was alone in the room. I got out of the bed, trying to smooth the now crumpled dress, and walked slightly unsteadily into the kitchen. "Joe? Are you there?"

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